“Milo, where are you going?” Arthur asked.

“The industrial district. No question,” Milo answered without any hesitation.

“That makes sense. I’d imagine there’s a lot of smithing there.”

“Not just smithing. It’s bigger than that.” Milo made some sweeping arm gestures over his head, trying to indicate just how big. “It’s all of industry. Making things. Fixing things. Melting things. Pouring things. I’m not just a smith now. I’m a machinist. It’s a rare class, but the capital has tons of automation and machine-builders compared to anywhere else. This is the only chance I’ll get to learn about how they work. At least for a long time after this.”

Arthur took the opening Milo left. “I can ask Spiky to send you next time. To make sure you get another bite at that apple.”

“Not a chance, sucker.” Milo smirked. “You’ll be the one explaining all that stuff in your little classroom. I’ll be out messing with molten iron.”

Big chunks of the city disappeared from view as the wagon dropped in altitude. The wall was rising up to a blocking angle, meaning they could see less and less of the city and more and more of the tall, looming wall. As the cart finally crashed off the hill and onto a level road, Arthur was surprised to see just how many buildings were in place around the city, and how much more permanently they had been built and arranged.

“Is there no worry about monster waves at all?” Arthur asked.

“Not here. Imagine a city with five or ten guys just like Karbo. Would they worry?” Milo said.

“I guess not. Although there’s no chance that they’re just like Karbo.”

The capital was all the more impressive to Arthur because they levied no taxes on other cities and colonies to support themselves. Everyone contributed to the government, which distributed funds to the various purposes that could use them best such as the expansion. And the capital supported itself through its own efforts, using city taxes on city activities instead of anyone else’s work.

“So how do we get in?” Arthur leaned up closer to Talca’s seat. “That’s a big wall. I’m assuming there’s a gate somewhere.”

“Lots of them. As the capital got safer and safer, the city cut more of them into the wall. We can just keep going straight and pick the first one we see,” Talca said.

The gate that popped up first was a pretty nondescript thing, just a pair of iron doors in a simple bricked archway allowing entrance through the wall. It was big enough to allow two wagons like Talca’s to enter abreast, but smaller than Arthur would have expected for the massive capital.

“This is one of the minor entrances, I guess?” Arthur ventured.

“It is.” Mizu nodded. “The main entrance is much, much bigger. This is better. There’s no wait.”

Arthur didn’t have to ask what the wait would have been for, as that question was answered by a rapidly approaching guard.

“HOLD!” the larger of the two shouted, clanking the butt of his all-metal halberd on the ground. He was, overall, the largest rodent demon Arthur had ever seen. He looked like someone had puffed up a rat with a bicycle pump. “HOLD FOR INSPECTION!”

“For the love of every single god, Hyde. Pipe down. It’s a wagon, filled with initiates. Do you think they have a monster wave with them?” A bored looking cat demon rose from a stool, approaching at a much more sedate pace. “Where would they keep it? Under the benches?”

“They might have fruit!” Hyde said, undeterred. “We are supposed to inspect fruit.”

“If we see it, and if it’s clearly infested with some sort of plague. You need to calm down, Hyde. You’re going to pop your heart if you keep going like that.” The cat turned to the group. “Sorry. He’s excitable.”

“No problem.” Talca picked a bit of dirt off the bench next to him and flicked it away. “He’s new to the job?”

“No. He actually trained me.” The cat frowned, helplessly. “And I’ve been in the job for five years. You look like you know the drill, right?”

“I do. I’m transporting passengers, not cargo. Preserved food supplies, nothing fresh.”

“I’m getting some feedback from my skill, Yata,” the large rodent said, only slightly quieter now. “Some good I haven’t seen.”

“Oh. In this bag?” Talca had jumped over the bench to the back of the cart, and pulled up Arthur’s traveling sack.

“Yes! That.” The rodent nodded.

“It’s Arthur’s stuff.” Talca tossed the bag over to Arthur, shrugging his shoulders. “I am not getting paid enough to explain this, Arthur. Figure it out so we can go on.”

“Oh.” Arthur unzipped the bag. “What does your skill look for?”

“It flags anything I understand to be illegal, or anything I don’t understand at all,” the guard said. “It’s called Well, well, well.”

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“I want that,” Mizu said. “Arthur, I want that skill name.”

“Maybe we can get it as an achievement. Let me handle this first.” Arthur unzipped his bag, reaching for a large leather storage pouch inside. “It’s probably this. Right?”

The cat nodded. “Yes, yes. That’s it. What’s in there? Is it Jeremy blood?”

“No. Also, please don’t say that ever again.” Arthur shuddered. “It’s boba pearls. It’s a food item, made of flour.”

“Oooh, new food. You don’t see that very often.” Yata walked up and sniffed the opening of the bag. “The capital typically has everything there is to have. What do these boba pearls do?”

“You soak them in hot water and they poof up a bit. Then you put them in tea.”

“It’s what his class does. He’s a teamaster,” Lily said.

“See, Hyde? There was absolutely no reason to make a big deal out of this. It’s food. It’s not even dangerous food. You need to calm down,” the cat said.

“It’s my job to keep the city safe,” Hyde replied.

“Yes, well, it’s also your job to make the city fun to visit.” Yata waved the group past. “You can go. Am I right that you are here for the expo?”

“Yes,” Talca said. “They are, anyway. I’m just the transporter.”

“Then enjoy your stay. And… one last question, if I could. For you.” Yata looked at Mizu. “You asked him to get you a skill like you thought he actually could. What was that about?”

“Oh, right, you haven’t met Arthur.” Lily cut in before Mizu could answer. “It’s hard to explain, and we don’t have time. Talca has a bet to win.”

“I can’t keep you, then. Anything I have to worry about?”

“Worry? No,” Mizu laughed. “But if a bit of boba and me thinking Arthur might make something weird happen surprised you…”

“Then hold on to your butts,” Milo said.

The wagon rolled on before Arthur could find the words to disagree with the group properly.

“You guys are going to give me a bad reputation,” Arthur said. “They have no idea what you were talking about.”

“Oh, cut them some slack,” Talca said. “It’s better to give them a heads-up. Now shush. I need to get to the inn as fast as possible without mowing anyone down. That takes concentration.”

Talca spent the next ten minutes weaving through foot traffic and turning into side streets, cutting every fraction of a second from their travel time that he could. It was impressive, in a highly-specialized-skill sort of way. There were a dozen times Arthur thought some smaller, slower demon was going to get bulldozed by the cart, only to see the wagon shift subtly out of the way at the last second.

And it was all for naught. They turned one last corner, revealing a large, friendly looking inn down the street. It was a multi-storied affair, with a simple sign reading Capital Comfort above the door. It had food smells that wafted across the streets, as well as an overall sense of activity around and inside it.

Best of all, particularly from Talca’s point of view, it didn’t have a giant red infernal demon in the courtyard at all.

“We made it,” Talca sighed. “We won.”

He was glad just a moment too soon. From the sky, a whoop issued, intermixed with a chorus of terrified screams and the bellowing of what sounded like a large bison. A crack sounded, and a massive crater opened in the ground as Karbo landed, cradling a wagon in one hand and a large, terrified ox-beast in the other.

“You maniac!” The small mole-looking transporter was off his bench in a moment, ineffectually kicking at Karbo’s leg. “Look at Bova! Just look at him! He’s terrified.”

“And the ground, dear husband. You’ve left a hole in the ground.” Itela was practical about the whole affair, having experienced Karbo’s general Karboness a bit more than anyone else. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Oh, huh.” Karbo looked down at the ground, which was slowly seeping water from some broken pipe. “Yeah, I guess. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, Karbo.” Itela pointed to the driver, who was still trying to connect his foot with Karbo’s shins, then down the road at a fast-approaching group of guards. “Apologize to them.”

“Karbo Battlemaster?” the guard asked, his voice dripping with annoyance.

“Yes?” Karbo glanced at Itela nervously. “How do you know my name?”

“Every guard in the city knows your name. There’s a whole dossier on how to try and keep you from breaking things.” The guard looked down at the crater, which was fast becoming a large puddle, then slapped his own forehead. “Which we’ve already failed to do. Goodbye, bonus pay.”

“Oh.” Karbo kicked at the water a bit, chastened. “Sorry about that. Can I pay to fix it?”

“No, you can’t. That’s city business, and a city expense.” The guard took a closer look at one of the cracks in the ground. “The bigger issue, Mr. Battlemaster, is that you’ve broken a water pipe. A large one. One that will flood this entire street in less than a half hour, if I don’t get a water specialist and a smith here in time. And then this becomes a much larger problem.”

“Oh. So just do that?” Karbo said hopefully. “I can carry them if you want.”

“I don’t want. And it’s harder than that. The whole city is busy right now for the expo. With all sorts of problems. You’ve just added one more that we can’t easily handle.”

“Excuse me.” Mizu hopped out of Talca’s wagon, which had by now rolled much closer to the general Karbo-devastation. “I could probably help with that. I’m a weller. I’d need permission, of course, but…”

“You have it.” The guard didn’t hesitate. “I have no idea where the valves are, but if you can find them and get the water held back, that would be great. Of course, that leaves the entire street without water, which is a problem in and of itself.”

A window a few stories above opened as a rabbit demon poked his still-soapy head out, looked to find the source of his sudden lack of water pressure, found it, and then ducked back into the window as he realized it was too big of a problem for him to deal with.

“See? There’s still a problem,” the guard said, starting at Karbo.

Karbo looked around, found Milo, and lifted him one-handed out of the wagon before depositing himself on the ground in front of the guard.

“This is a smith. Do the permission-giving thing with him,” Karbo said proudly.

“Is that true?”

“It’s true. Although I’ll have to unpack… a lot of things. It will take a minute,” Milo said.

“Use these men.” The guard nodded at the other guards behind him, who broke away towards Milo. “They’ll help you as much as they can. Just get it done quick if you can. Gods, I still have to find stampers to fix this.”

“But it’s not a big problem now, right?” Karbo asked. “I can go?”

“Yes. For now,” the guard sighed. “Partially because I don’t have the ability to actually stop you from doing so. But know this, Karbo Battlemaster. If you break one more thing, even a single brick on the road, I’m going to invoke item eleven of the Anti-Karbo Pamphlet.”

“Which is?” Itela’s eyes lit up. “It sounds scary.”

“It’s just one line.” The guard grinned, suddenly sinister. “It says this: In all our efforts to keep our town intact, there is one thing we have not tried. If you find yourself unable to control Karbo, you are cleared to contact his mother.”

“You wouldn’t.” Karbo gulped.

“I absolutely would.” The guard turned to his men, instructing them on what to do once the road was patched up. Karbo waited patiently, looking scared and nervous for the first time Arthur had ever seen. “So behave yourself. Agreed?”

Karbo gulped again. “Agreed.”